8

is a snowman
or a ZERO wearing a tight belt
8
is before the German "Nein" for my American "No"
which may make a 7 a positive before you become internationally negative
8
has nothing to do with appetite
weight ain't nothing but a number
8
is an Infinity Symbol doing a yoga pose OR one standing at attention
888
is a picture taken of three Hungry, Hungry Hippos from a birds-eye POV
8 your brain...made me twice as smart
g is you - shorter and with a beer gut
8 should be a luckier number than 7 because it's just...a little bit more
8 is like...a 10!
on a scale of 1-10
8 divided by two is 4!!!
whatisitgoodfor

8

Se7en.

SEX(y)

is
attention
is
tolerance
imperfection
is
repetition
and
loving affection


 

5:00 in the morning...

is my reverse alarm clock
5:00 in the evening ...
kcolc mrala esrever ym si

FOUR years ago...

I posted this...



And it makes me even happier now.

3

p
o

TWO

Two times. Two times too many you've dangled that carrot in front of my eyes, man. Leading me blindly - speaking to me softly...full of promises and sweet rewards.

As I trod on and on and on...

Signed,

DONKEY

ONE

Evening when I was writing after work, something happened. A doppelganger of myself popped up right beside me.

POP! 

It actually sounded like that. I jumped/swore/and fell off the couch. He/Me/I/It was wearing the same clothing as I was. I fell on my ass and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms.

He/Me/I/It sat there, looking just as shocked as I was.

I and He/Me/I/It  both said at the same time, "What the fuck?"

And then we fainted.

That was a long time ago. Now were the best of friends. We're the reason that we don't return your phone calls, why we avoid certain events, why we procrastinate to points of complete, illogical explanation - it's because we're just so fucking cool. We make ourselves laugh, we tell dumb jokes, trade books, comic books, read passages of poetry to each other - we start to write things but usually end up getting distracted and end up doing something else completely different. One night may start with us making Zucchini bread and then an hour later we're acting out scenes from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Do laundry and end up weeding in the garden. Want to take naps but end up arm-wrestling instead.

We have fun, and lots of it. I don't even know what I would do if I didn't have He/Me/I/It in my life - but there's one thing that we are extremely focused on. One thing that we fear and slightly tremble at the notion of...

We're afraid of the "Un-POP". We've talked about it. We hope to God that it never happens.

That ONE evening, fooling around after work, the doppelganger of ourselves will disappear.

POP!

Just like that. And it'll be done. No more. No Best friend, confidant, go-to-guy. Done, finished, fini.

All alone. Just with ourself.

Just......ONE.

tonight

a homeless 23 year old after work toothpaste 20 dollars spun drugs atm frustration

I have so much in the back of my car

and i talked to him

before, he called out to me asking me for something and i yelled out to WAIT

i gave him 1/50th of it

prepper shit in my car

it drives me fucking crazy

i have this stuff but

why cant i change his life?

because i cant?

i know his age drug habits where he sleeps now

he didnt need a sleeping bag, clothes

accepted chocolate, food, all of my huge bags of toothpaste and toothbrushes for him and his friends

razors

i gave him, not advice - but a small amount of shit as I gave him 20 bucks

i told him that I wished that he would use it for food and/or comfort - not drugs but I understand that he was nodding his head because he was appreciative and i get it

i asked him if he was using resources that my city has available for the homeless. Food, shelter, etc.

he said 211?

I said no and started to talk about our PD homeless liason that I know but he started talking about some other stuff and...he wasn't into it.

he said that he had pride to a certain extent and didn't like hand outs as much as everybody else.

we talked more.

he talked about his mother in a minute. She sucked.

he lost it after his girlfriend slept with some guy.

i don't even know where im going with this story. It's late now.

i am not drunk.

i can give a fuck about grammar, syntax, punctuation

i worked tonight. first thing that I had to do was to kick out a person

i made people laugh

business was slow

shit got busy

my job sucks ass

and I have the best job in the world

people would kill me for my job

So, here you have little old, fucking me - just depositing money into my local ATM because I need to, because if I don't, then my world will explode and then implode and explode in an even grander and more majestic galactic thing of beautiful destruction.

I want to take you by your fucking ears and help you.

I can do more. That's what sucks. And, please - do this for me. No, seriously. I'm Fucking RETARDED. I don't know how to do shit. I put the IDIOT into the Idiot Savant.


I am still haunted by being homeless when I was 18-19......


SO...

I was 15 seconds away from home and I turned my car around

I wanted to catch him again and give him more stuff

then I turned my car back around to go home

i understand why

but it bugs me

Oh.

Also?

when I told him that i just got off of work and that i was a bartender
he was very surprised

he said that he thought that I was a doctor

A DOCTOR.

Me?

E.S.P. Telekinesis. Ancient Astronauts. Nutri-Grain. Pregnancy. Bigfoot. Ecto-Cooler. Malcolm McLaren. Cancer. 5D. Mediocre Mario-Kart. Watches. Me. Fencing. God. Gleek. Gloop. Goop!!! The Goon. The Gooch. Kathleen Kennedy. VALIS. Pleats. EG&G. 1957. Che Guevara. Ultron. Colonel Graff. Dan Sweetman. Astral Projection. Stan Getz. Cần Thơ.  Fat Free Milk. C3-PO. This End Up^. In Love. Yorick. Harper Lee. The Bleed. Dies The Fire. Aries. ISON Comet. Gretal. I LIKE IKE. Crystal Pepsi. Alfred Pennyworth. dec    binary    hex       4 = 00100 = 0x04       8 = 01000 = 0x08      15 = 01111 = 0x0F      16 = 10000 = 0x10      23 = 10111 = 0x17      42 = %0101010 = 0x2A     108 = %1101100 = 0x6C 7418880 = %11100010011010000000000 = 0x713400. Alta Loma, California. Howard Stark. Text “TACO” to 91318. Frak. MI6. Crosley. Lovecraft. Selina Kyle Malone. The Thin  Red Line. Crystal Skulls. Holocrons. D20. THACO. Liberty Board Shop. George McFly. Cambridge. AaBbc. Better dead than Read! The Hedgehog. Zucchini. Mayans. The Pearl. Not Steinbeck. Vornado.  River Pheonix. I want to TEACH children about the joys of the written word, I am my Grandmother’s…ummm- - -uhhhhh, I guess Grandson. I raised myself on her LATIN lessons and her elementary school primers. And maybe with the books –ALL of the wonderous, kind-of crazy/miasmic plethora of fucking weird-ass shit that I had read in book shelves and things that I was told NOT TO TOUCH. I Read them. ALL of them. I READ EVERYTHING. I suck things in my mind. Always, I do it. It causes me pain. JOY. I’m not special – but I am. I have limited memory recall. I regurgitate about 63%, MAYBE in every aspect of my life. I feel guilt about this. I should be smarter. I just can’t remember all of the shit that I read. I don’t tell people that part of the reason that I don’t sleep during the day is that I HAVE TO DRINK LIQUIDS AND HAVE TO READ STUFF. I know that I need to sllep but I get distracted even if I know what I’m watching on the dumb computer is a conduit for knowledge. I am always excited…butbutbut I’m FUCKING RETARDED. I have ADHD. CLINICAL Depression. I am not the kite. I am the heavy string. I am not special. I collect what dust and sediment passes through my ears. It’s all Cilia. It’s all filimental. I think I just made up that word – but it really does make sense of this sensical NON-sense.

AND

I’m

LOVE/a futurist/STRONGER THAN ALL OF YOU/and am learning

SO

I’ll be serious.

Right now.

THESE ARE THINGS THAT I DO WELL:

1.     I can get people excited about books or anything Nerd-Centric.

2.     I REALLY AM A GOOD BARTENDER.

3.     I REALLY AM A GOOD……writer.

4.     I make you laugh.

5.     My insides are good. Perfect health. Drink less.

6.     ADHD, CLINICAL DEPRESSION, and just being Benjamin Button.

7.     I would fight to the death for you.

8.     My love for my little sister.

9.     My love for SCIENCE.

10.  My verbosity.

11.  My HEART.

12.  My tenacity

13.  My friendship.

14.  MY LOVE FOR YOU ALL.

Just keep swimming...

if this ship was sinking
i would make sure to throw you overboard
because you're a life-preserver

pituarary tracts

its not the meaning of the words
no
they don't get harder to discern
it's the will and the lack of urgency
to put them down that burns

( I don't remember writing this.)

Independence Hall...

Where were you today

We missed you

Were you stuck in the mud
Were you rearranging The Stars

It's sometimes hard to find you
and keep hold of your hand
while you're wandering, marveling and wondering

We wondered too

Were you with your cats
In your garden
In study
Contemplation
Sad and pondering

We think that you were
where you wanted to be

We missed you
We really did

And it's great
It's awesome
We love it

Just remember
If nothing else

That WE are arranging The Stars too


----------------------------------------------------


This time in between the day and the night
The light kills my sense of life
So scared, turn it off, turn it off

It's dull, this dusk, this desk, this dust
My eyes adjust
I'll blow out the flame
Can you and me remain?

Changes, never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the gold and the game
Changes, never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the cold and the waves
My heart beats up, again

Once said, words make a world of their own
I misread
I can't get you back on the phone
I'm so tired, so turn it off, turn it off
How's that, last week we were home
You're far away
And I hardly know
Can you and me delay?

Changes, never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the gold and the game
Changes, never been good with change
Troubled when it all stays the same
Caught between this cold and the waves
My heart beats up, again

Are you my trouble
Are you my trouble

BEETHOVEN WAS RIGHT.

Bees are dying.
Democracy doesn't work.
Fortified food.
COLD hearts.

Reverse Roar.

I'm going to not write like I have been writing lately. I do it because it's easy. I'm not lazy. I just have way too much shit that I want to put down. Sometimes I have time to write but ajkhkjdhshjddaj - I get distracted. Sometimes I get lazy. Sometimes I don't care. Sometimes I care too much and that's why I don't write.

I am in shorts and sitting in my backyard. Right by the garden. I'm proud of it. I can write more about how important it is to me. I wont. Boring. Garden writing. Really. Not like what I just wrote is any better. I am making fun of myself and writing the exact type of thing that I am making fun of.

I need to stop making fun of myself. I need
to not write
like this
anymore

Reversing dumb writing

Writing dumb verses

I did that on purpose.

I Don't Know What Happens After This...

And what is this, my friend?

A thing.

Some, amazing beautiful thing that we're sharing.

Let's not ruin this this while it's happening.

The Motorhomes - Psalm

I danced all winter so summer came as a surprise
Terrible thing that I've done tracing your steps too long
I laughed all summer I laughed until I dropped my guard
Terrible things that I've said hating you all too much
loving you all to much

Oh I wish I could be like you, so I asked you how and then you said no
no you don’t want to be like me, so don’t try to be, I hope you won't turn in to me
It took October I think it took November too
Then all it took was a push and I turned into you
Oh no, I turned into you.

I Ching, I Choose, I Change...

“Just because I liked something at one point in time doesn’t mean I’ll always like it, or that I have to go on liking it at all points in time as an unthinking act of loyalty to who I am as a person, based solely on who I was as a person. To be loyal to myself is to allow myself to grow and change, and challenge who I am and what I think. The only thing I am for sure is unsure, and this means I’m growing, and not stagnant or shrinking.” 

― Jarod Kintz.

Will you be my constant?

Dance and sing and dance and sing...

In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day. F. Scott Fitzgerald

Stop trying to wake yourself up.

Never sleep again.

Every night is a daymare.

You won't forget this tomorrow morning.

My parents are not dead.
I am not rich.
I have no wards.
I employ no hired help.
I'm not a genius.
And I have no enemies.

I am only a small man with big thoughts.
A big heart.
Small beginnings.
Haunted much.
But I try not to sweat the small stuff.

I will always be here.
I will be here way after you are gone.
All of you.
I miss you now.

You need to WAKE UP.

Get moving.

Get out of your own head.

And remember EVERYTHING.

Good day

and

Good night

Han Shoots First.

Han Shoots First...

I have spent the last hour expanding on a very short story that I wrote before.

It seems like a lot more like The Star Wars SPECIAL EDITION to THE ORIGINALS

I can, like - Haiku the story, right?

minimum wage worker

clown

hot chick

Allen Ginsberg Was A Werewolf...

I can't wait to type on my new typewriter.

I don't know what I'm going to write about. Nothing unusual there. Do I write only poetry? Only write on one LONG story? Only write short stories? Continue to rewrite my old, short stories? Do I take it to the laundry porch and annoy the neighbor, or to the backyard by the garden, underneath the lemon tree, in Deprak Chopper Phil's Garage while waiting for microwavvvvv burritos? (never)

I should bring my old-timey record player and only write for the length of the 78.

I wrote a long-ass rewriting of a short story the other night. The short story became longer. I don't know if I like it.

I, I, I,

barely write and when I do I write about not writing

The always thorn in my side, side, side

the eternal and creative frustration on my life, life, life

needle in my...(you get it)

Land of da Lost...

I'm looking at the palm tree fronds in my backyard

It's late, I know

Thinking of things
of you
people noise is coming from the alley
they're up to no good
i don't care
im tired
not supposed to be up now
i know
i dont care
we're all tired
i think more than you all do in your lifetimes
im not special
i just care

it's late, I know

Palm tree fronds looking at me in their backyard